


Not the Right Man

by AskError



Series: Monsters in the Dark (FNaF/ WKM) [2]
Category: Five Nights at Freddy's, Who Killed Markiplier? (Web Series)
Genre: Dark's kids are Eric and Yancy, FNaF exists in our world, Gen, Hiding in an attic, Jeremy is still dead : (, Mark is pretty chill about this all things considered, Stalking, The Special Delivery trailer is kind of important to the plot of this series, Weird Plot Shit, he's dating the District Attorney, not super relevant but there you go
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:21:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28772262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AskError/pseuds/AskError
Summary: In which Michael Afton stalks a man going by the name 'Markiplier', and hides in an attic.Co-Written by MantaDrifter over on Deviantart.
Relationships: Mark Fischbach/Amy Nelson, Michael Afton/Jeremy Fitzgerald
Series: Monsters in the Dark (FNaF/ WKM) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2109492
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Not the Right Man

Michael had never much liked the process of stalking people.

On one side of the coin, it was just creepy- what sane person devotes a large portion of their time following someone around? It made him feel too much like his father. And on the other, it was just plain boring. All this sneaking around could not be good for mental wellbeing. Made him feel aggressive and irritable but, damn if he didn't want to pounce on a lead.

The company didn't just hire a new CEO out of the blue for no good reason. He was too perky, almost mechanical in nature... it wouldn't surprise him if William had decided to try a human skinned animatronic. Gross, but this wasn't the first time.

There was that... one incident with Charlie a few years ago; some early models of Baby that had become unhinged.

He'd found the wreckage in an old, abandoned house near some silver mines... John had been kind enough to point him in the right direction. The other variant was effectively harmless, but on her last legs- Michael knew she wouldn't last long.

The boy saw no reason to tell John this.

Yes, there was a way she could have lived but, it wouldn't have been living... not really. Endure the body may, but by then, the soul would have eroded. Father's little beta lacked Remnant but if his understanding of the schematics was anything to go by giving her the substance wouldn't end well.

What given Lefty being active and all- the animatronic contained the soul that the beta so desperately (yet unknowingly) needed, was running out of fast... and if he knew the Puppet at all over these long years, she would not be giving that up so willingly.

No... it was kinder this way. He could be annoyed by the beta all he wanted, but John had been kind to Michael. The least he could do was keep his mouth shut.

Better a kind end for the girl than an agonizing hell.

But Charlie was beside the point. He needed to know if this was going to be an occurring thing, or if he was dealing with something worse.

All of these points were the reason he was standing in the garden of a strange house in the dead of night. At least the company paid well to house its pets. He counted... two dogs, a lab and a retriever. Gorgeous things.

Odd. Normally animals went nuts at the whiff of an animatronic. It was like the bots were holding a sign for "free lunch". But the pooches were happy with the man and his girlfriend... was she a company plant? A spy to make certain that, were he a robot, that he didn't go kill-crazy? Whatever he was, the girl and the dogs were making Michael suspicious. This was... quite strange. He needed answers, and he could not get them idly observing. So, he waited till midnight before creeping forward.

A faulty back door did the trick. A shame that locks weren't made like they used to.

He slipped in quietly; his biology meant alarms were no worry.

Perhaps this house was big enough to have an air vent. He'd settle for an attic, too. Attic over a vent any day... too many memories. Too dusty, as well.

The house was quiet. He knew everyone was downstairs, watching some Christmas film. Like a shadow, he skulked upstairs looking for clues and a place to hide in the house. The rooms seemed to be the standard. Bathroom, a master bedroom, guest rooms, a spare room that seemed to be nothing special and a storage room. The storage room had a bunch of old camera equipment, and boxes that had odd components inside.

Nothing screamed danger; just bits of computers and laptops... nothing that was even compatible with a robot. He put the electronics neatly back in their respective box, shutting it carefully. Making sure to leave no trace. He was stopped at the door.

A dog stared at him. He stared back.

She made no sound. Merely yawn and tilt her head, blinking up at him warmly and trotting away. Odd... most animals acted around him like he were an animatronic. Did she recognize his scent?

Either way, he thought it best to move on lest she draw in some unwanted attention. Off to the attic.

It was warm up here, and surprisingly orderly. Boxes and trinkets all neatly ordered. Clearly, the touch of a woman had been up here. Perhaps for a long while. Not even the tidiest of men could have organized things quite like this.

Absently, he fished into a box finding an obviously aged family photo. Two small boys... brothers, clearly, perched on a chair with a man who must be their father. It was sweet- he held it reverently for a moment before carefully tucking it back in.

Another search produced a later photo of his target, older and dressed in a marching band uniform. The photo, meant to be formal, had been interrupted by a large fluffy dog who must have wandered into the frame. The dog looked pleased with itself, while the boy looked exasperated. The camera had perfectly caught the boy's hat landing on its head- the dog must have believed Christmas had come early. Michael could only imagine the laughter that followed. He placed it back and rummaged some more.

Some old clothes. Old documents. A graduation certificate.

Basically, proof of life... though, Charlie did have similar documents. These looked properly aged... written in ink back in the days when everything was meant to be handwritten.

Quite strange, quite strange.

Looking around he found an old pile of cushions that would do for now as a place to sleep. People were coming upstairs now. He put the rest of the items back in place and took the cushions with him, slipping out without a sound.  
\-----------

Mark paused on the stairs with the faintest feeling something was off.

"Mark?"

"Hm? Oh- sorry, Amy... I guess the movie got me a bit jumpy." She gave him a funny look. "What?"

"Rudolph gets you jumpy?"

"Umm, have you seen the Futurama Christmas special?"

There was a laugh at that. "Come now, we'll keep you safe from the big bad reindeer," the woman teased.

Mark rolled his eyes. "My brave, beautiful protector." 

Soft giggling followed close, behind a soft kiss. He sighed, leaning down to meet her.

"Alright... we gotta get to bed, Ames."

His girlfriend smirked, walking away with Henry. "I'll see you there, Prancer." He growled quietly, ready to join her... as soon as he locked up the house. 

Windows good, front door good... wait. Where was Chica? There was a whining noise from upstairs.

She was sitting in front of the attic door... when did he leave that unlocked? He'd just went through the boxes this morning, and he always locked up when he was done. Something... something wasn't right. It was an offbeat chill. Just a feeling, but...

He pulled out his phone. It may feel silly to call them but, the feeling wouldn't leave, and given their shared foe, safe was miles better than sorry. The phone crackled for a moment before answering. "How urgent is this?"

Mark winced. "Define your level of urgent?"

"I'm supposed to be taking Yancy to a film."

A deep breath. "I think there is someone in the house... someone who shouldn't be here." 

Dark gave a long pause at that- he must have ducked out of the room he was in, because there was far less background noise when he finally answered. "Who else is with you now- who else who is supposed to be here?"

"Amy and the dogs, but they're downstairs and I'm next to the attic," Mark whispered. "Dark, what if it's-"

"Impossible," Dark interrupted. "Your blood's too pure, he'd be insane to risk getting near you. The worst he could do is send a proxy."

"Such as?" He had heard plenty about the types the actor hired. Not just men but all sorts of monsters. Dark seemed to debate for a moment. "I don't want to ruin your night, it's probably nothing-"

"No, I can reschedule. I'll be over in a few." And that was that.

Apparently Dark had meant a few seconds. This wasn't the first time Dark had teleported into his house, but it was still freaky. Like crossing a mirage with a bad photo edit with a pinch of a migraine. The fusion opened his mouth to say something, then frowned. "What is it?" Mark asked, immediately worried.

"This presence... it's one I've felt before, but I don't know where."

"Something of his?"

Dark shook his head. "No, but it's not human... not anymore. Tell Amy to stay downstairs, and then follow behind me. This may get messy."

He did; she wasn't too keen on the unexpected guest, but less keen on a prowler or monster in the attic. Dark opened the door without a sound, and he didn't dare turn on the light. In the corner of the attic, a young man, maybe sixteen years old stood, was going through one of Mark's photo albums.

He was pale, almost blue in the moonlight, with a hardened expression and dark hair sweeping his face. Most curious of all was the eyes- the 'whites' were blacker than anything Mark had ever seen, and his purple orbs seemed to burn into the darkened room. It was maybe three seconds before he looked up. And then, tensed.

"... Shit." The voice was low, distinctly English and said one thing; the owner was ready to bolt. They couldn't take that chance. Tendrils of aura shot out. But the boy... he was quite quick. Like a streak of silver dashing for the window. He might have made it not for tripping on a loose tendril of aura.

Cursing up a storm and writing in the tendril's grip, as it hoisted him upside-down into the air.

He wriggled madly like a fish on a line, even reaching for his ankle to try and pull it free. Dark watched it all with vague amusement. "Quite a pity," he remarked to his younger counterpart. "They usually put up more of a fight." And by fight, he meant to curse, shout and rage like things straight out of hell. This was something strange, something new.

There was something odd about the boy's essence, too... like a rubber band that had been crushed and flattened out into place. That didn't stop him from trying to kick and claw at the strand clamped firmly around his leg.

"Dark, he's a kid-"

"Don't let looks fool you," the demon replied, spinning the tendril to face them. "Who sent you?" The boy merely glowered at him. No response, though Mark was taking his time to study the boy. There was something familiar about those eyes.

"I'm not answering anything until you put me the fuck down, you damn augmented 'tronics."

Mark's heart just about stopped. It couldn't be.... even for life as strange as his. "'Tronics.... as in animatronics?"

"You should know."

"Wait. You telling me this has never happened before?" Mark queried the fusion.

"Don't look at me," Dark said. The parts were sliding into place for Mark. Pale skin, purple eyes. He was the wrong age for William, but daring to look closer he found a scar in the boy's neck that vanished under his clothing. An even larger scar was peeking out from where his chest would be... like he had been gutted like an animal waiting to be slaughtered.

Oh.

... Well, shit.

Yes, Mark knew this boy well. "Put him down, Dark."

"Pardon?"

"I... kind of know him and as weird as it sounds, he's not a threat."

Dark gave him a long, strange look. "... Very well, then." Gently, the kid was dropped to the floor, looking up at the two men sullenly, much like a rabbit debating whether not to bolt. 

Silence followed.

"Why don't we all just go downstairs and figure this out?" Mark offered, almost like breaking up a playground spat instead of a life or death situation. Dark and the boy blinked, before nodding slowly.  
\-----------

Amy looked at Mark funny when he brought her out to the living room. "You're kidding me, right?"

"Look I know but...." the dogs barked happily, running past to meet the stranger. The boy was practically jumped on, and his eyes were wide as he stared at his furry assailants. The dogs yipped happily- they liked this stranger. He was quickly engulfed in golden and yellow fur, sitting on the floor and staring straight ahead, frozen. He was acting like a rabbit in the jaws of a fox.

Eyes small and staring he was like a rabbit in the jaws of a fox.

"Let him up guys," Mark ordered gently- if he was who Mark suspected, the poor kid had been in the jaws of one too many "animal". The dogs whined but obeyed. Shaking and dripping in slobber, Michael was feeling the odd mix of embarrassed and traumatized. At the very least these dogs wanted to kiss and not bite him. It wasn't the dogs' fault... he just wasn't comfortable around something with that many teeth.

He crawled into a free seat, glad when someone handed him a cloth to wipe his face. 

The shadowy creature was still peering at him. Aura hissing lazily, like Mangle in the vents. He made Michael extremely on edge, waiting for him to pounce. Onyx eyes stared at purple. Neither blinked.

"... So, who is he?" Eyes turned to Amy. 

"Well... I think this guy is from FNaF," Mark said sheepishly.

The boy's eyes narrowed. "Come again?"

"Five Nights at Freddy's," Mark explained, "Ring a bell?" The boy shook his head. "It's a video game series," Mark said, pulling out his phone. "A trailer came out a little while ago..."

Mark flipped over the phone and handed it to him, showing... 

What in the world? What sick fuck thought it'd be a good idea to turn these tragedies into a game, of all things? His brother, his sister... Jeremy...

Was this some sick twist?!? Michael seemed to shrink into the couch, stunned, his breaths rabbit-fast. And there was Father- that was supposed to have been the end, not a spectacle for gawkers! The boy snarled. Everyone tensed, Dark's aura shot forward to grab the thrown phone. But all he did was hunch forward, covering his face. 

Soft sobbing followed... no one was quite sure what to do.

He couldn't do this again.

The boy nearly jumped at a hand on his shoulder. Mark, with a deep look of pity and concern. The situation was weird but, he was the victim here... even if he did break in with ill intent. Stranger things had certainly happened, even in this room. 

Where had he come from? Part of Mark wondered if Scott was in a similar situation to himself. Did it have to do with that strange turn of events in the VR game? And maybe it was, with that new "construction project" people were finding... a mall... or more precisely a meat factory. Whatever it was, it was clear that something weird was going on with the coding. Intentional or not, it was too soon to say. Right now there were more important things to worry about, questions to answer. Maybe with something to eat- poor kid looked more than a little starved, like he was nothing but skin and bone... given what Mark knew from the game that was a bad choice of words.

He went out of the room only to offer the kid a snack- the boy that was probably Michael peered at him strangely. "What? It's not poison if that's what you're worried about." To prove it Mark took a bite himself.

That seemed to soothe Michael a bit, taking the plate and thanking him softly. He took small bites like a man just over a severe illness. Absently Mark wondered what state his gut was in. No one dare spoke until the boy was satisfied.

"... I was wrong to come here," he admitted eventually. "You do not seem to be the one I'm looking for."

Deja vu, Mark thought, fishing out his phone again and muttering to his counterpart. "Come take a look at this." Dark stood up, peering over Mark's shoulder. 

FNaF? It sounded familiar...

Killer robots infused with captured souls... downright macabre. The sort of thing sounded right up the Actor's alley. Puppeting innocent lives for his own purposes. Perhaps... he took a look at the video again. "... Ah." It was subtle really but he could see where the confusion had arisen. "Mark, why did they have you act... mechanical?"

Mark frowned. "That's... not me, Dark."

"But you said you did the gig?" Amy asked.

"Believe me, I thought I did. But that's not me." Mark looked worried now, scared even. Was this what it was like to face an evil twin?

The faintest of wheels were turning in Michael's head, as he tried to remember the conversations between Fazbear employees he'd been able to eavesdrop on. Something very odd about it, like someone having a coded conversation or privately flirting in public. 

It had struck him as odd then, hearing about the "other one". He'd chalked it up to code for some unfinished bot.

But perhaps it had meant something else entirely, especially given how the grey one was looking like someone had kicked his puppy.

"What do you mean by this?"

Michael realized he was being addressed, and blinked up at them calmly. "I do not know. My informant has been silent these last few days." He shrugged. "Either gone to ground or dead."

He ignored Amy's look of fearful concern. in his situation death was an old friend.

He was surprised when they told him of their suspect. Then again a body-hopping ghoul was practically normal compared to his father. Seemed that this Mark fellow knew it too, acting like someone had given him the worst news in the world. Mark looked to the shadowy man again, asking him, "What are we supposed to do?"

The demon cracked his kneck. "For now, we will have to wait." His aura flickered "We do not understand enough to blindly charge in. Given what you have told me about this... series of events, it would be unwise to alert them that we know. I will speak with Google," he added. "Security upgrades will be needed."

They both turned to the boy. "And Doc will want a look at you."

"If you want to," Mark interjected. The way the man was looking it was as if Dark had suggested shipping him to area 51. Michael was too tired to worry about such things, already drooping on the couch.

It had been a very long day. Amy had found a blanket in the trunk. "You can sleep here for now. We'll figure out a plan in the morning."  
A muffled noise was the answer. Amy had to push Henry down from getting ideas to join in.

She looked over to Dark questioningly, who shrugged. "I'll stay here tonight if you'll have me." She nodded.

Amy turned the light off as she and Mark finally headed to bed, the dogs at their heels. The room was plunged into darkness- the only source of light was Michael's glowing purple eyes, which were narrowed with exhaustion.

"Go to sleep."

"What do you want?" Michael asked quietly.

"What do you want?" It replied back. "You are an angry child," it noted quietly.

Michael snorted. "I have a great deal to be angry about."

"And how so?"

Michael snorted. "I have no one. Everyone who's ever loved me is dead. My father likes to kill kids for fun. I died once, very painful, because I thought I could trust him. Big surprise, no, that only lead to me becoming a fucking skinsuit. On top of that, my mentor's gone, I was denied rest, and then my father convinced my boyfriend to kill himself. So, yeah. I'm an angry child."

"... I was once a man, no different than any other until fate and poor choices so fit to change that." Dark sat back in his seat with a sigh. "I do not age. I am in constant pain. I will continue to be so until I am killed, or until the earth stops spinning. True Hell, yes, but... it does not have to be."

Michael frowned. "What are you saying?"

"Isolation, loneliness. That is the true Hell. There are ways to remedy that."

He was smiling... why on earth was he smiling? "For the longest time I thought I could power through and do it alone," he moved his hand conjuring a small image like a hologram. "I was wrong. If you don't let people in, you will miss out on the little things in life. The things that make it worth living."

There was a ghostly woman and a small child in her arms smiling at the audience, an older boy soon joining them. The shadowy creature smiled back at them. "My family... well, a small part of it."

He held the image close. "Don't get me wrong- if anything came to harm them, it'd receive my full wrath. But they are my world, and there is more to the world than vengeance," he murmured. "Just think about it."

Michael was silent. Not asleep, just quietly mulling over what Dark had said. Honestly, Michael was uncertain he could truly sleep anymore- if anything he seemed to power down for a time. There were never any dreams, just whispers of nightmares. Just quite enough not to suffer but close enough to torment him. That design choice was very much intended. But, eventually, he did seem to fall into some state of rest.

Curled up against the couch, breathing softly.

It was strange, but he looked different asleep. More organic and human. More like the child that he was.

Absently, Dark tucked him into another blanket, brushing the hair out of his eyes. Let him rest now.

He clearly needed it.


End file.
